Heartache
It was still early—five in the morning—and the world outside was cloaked in darkness. I was already standing in front of the house. The silence around me was deep, almost as if it was swallowing every sound that dared exist. I wrapped my arms around myself as the cold morning air brushed against my skin. I still felt weak, a little dizzy, but it wasn’t enough to stop me from walking away.
I slipped inside quietly. I had no intention of explaining myself to anyone. I went straight to my room, not even bothering to change clothes.
The moment I locked the door, that’s when I broke down.
I collapsed onto the bed, burying my face into the pillow. The tears came without warning, even before my thoughts could catch up. Everything felt heavy—my chest, my head, my entire body.
Within minutes, I was sobbing so hard it felt like I couldn’t breathe. I felt like I had no one. No one believed me. It was like being stuck inside a burning building, screaming for help—while everyone around me wore headphones. Silent. Blank.
I glanced at my phone. It vibrated again. Thirty-seven missed calls—mostly from Mama. Even Sue had sent messages. Cole too. But I didn’t open a single one. I couldn’t explain. I didn’t know how.
I lay on my back and stared at the ceiling. Blank. Crying. Again and again.
Meanwhile, Cole was still in the gym’s locker room. Basketball practice had just ended, but unlike before, he didn’t stay behind. He didn’t sit down. He didn’t chat. He didn’t smile while kicking the ball toward the wall. He simply took off his jersey in silence, drenched in sweat, but lost in thought.
He sat on the bench with a towel draped over his shoulder, but his eyes—they were far from the locker room.
Before practice, he had told Michelle not to wait for him, saying he might stay late at the gym. But it wasn’t even nine yet, and he was already dressed, standing in front of his locker.
It wasn’t exhaustion—he was used to this kind of training. But tonight was different.
He couldn’t stay still.
What Laura had said earlier.
The look on her face when she told him what she saw.
Edward.
Michelle.
Cole bit his lip and shut his eyes, trying to push the image out of his head. But the harder he tried not to think about it, the louder it came back. Like an echo slamming repeatedly into his skull.
Michelle.
Edward.
He hated how those names sounded together now.
Since they were kids, the three of them were always together. Edward had always been there on his birthdays—mentor, second dad. And Michelle—well, she had always been there. Friend. Comfort zone. Girlfriend. Family friend. Almost the perfect package.
But lately…
He’d been noticing strange things. The way Michelle looked at Edward—as if trying to say something. The subtle touches on his arm. The laughter that felt too careful. And Edward, who once felt like a father figure—texting a little too often at night.
“Faye’s just being dramatic,” he whispered to himself, slamming the locker shut harder than necessary.
But no matter how many times he said it, that small voice in his head wouldn’t go away.
What if she’s not?
What if she’s right?
And if she is…
Something inside him clenched. It felt like the world he trusted was starting to fall apart. A life built on loyalty and faith was now eroding with the sting of doubt.
Instead of resting, he grabbed his bag and walked out of the locker room. He ignored the coach who asked if he was okay. Didn’t even say goodbye to his teammates. He just left.
Once outside the gym, he took a deep breath. But even the cold wind couldn’t calm the storm in him.
He needed to go home. He needed to be alone.
He needed quiet—even just for a moment.
When he got home, the lights in the living room were on. It was clean. Silent. Like no one was around.
His mind was quiet too—but not because he was at peace.
It was quiet because it had been screaming for hours.
Laura’s voice kept echoing in his head. The image of her face as she told him what she saw played on repeat. The same question kept spinning, one he didn’t want to face.
He let out a long breath.
His eyes glanced at his phone as he opened his bedroom door.
Still no message from Laura.
He paused in the hallway.
He bit the inside of his cheek. He wanted to believe Laura was wrong. That she misunderstood. But if what she said was true, if it really happened…
“It’s not just my heart that’ll break,” he whispered. “It’s my whole sense of self.”
And if it really was Michelle and Edward…
He squeezed his eyes shut.
“I hate that she might be right.”
When Cole arrived home, he entered through the gate using the duplicate key. The surroundings were still, the living room dark, but the light in the hallway leading to his father’s office was on. He didn’t know why his feet led him there—he hadn’t planned on going. Maybe because he heard a laugh. Faint conversation. Voices he recognized.
As he got closer, he stopped in his tracks.
Through the slight opening of the half-closed door, he saw it.
It wasn’t just a kiss. It wasn’t just a hug. It was enough to snap the last thread of trust he had left.
Edward. Michelle.
Edward’s hand rested on her back, pulling her close as he kissed her—slowly, deeply. Michelle was pressed against him, her soft laughter dissolving into the warmth of his embrace. The world outside disappeared. There were no hesitations. No protests. Just closeness. Just… comfort.
Too comfortable.
Too practiced.
Too familiar.
As if it had been going on for a while.
As if this wasn’t a mistake.
He suddenly couldn’t breathe.
But he didn’t make a scene.
He didn’t barge in. Didn’t shout. Didn’t slam the door or punch the wall like he used to when he was hurt.
He just turned around, quiet.
And with each step away from that room, it felt like parts of him were breaking off—like he was being erased. Piece by piece, left behind in the hallway.
When he reached his room, he finally breathed.
Forced. Heavy. Burning.
He didn’t take off his shoes. Didn’t change his clothes. He just sat on the edge of his bed, eyes unfocused, not knowing where to look.
Betrayal. It sat on his chest like a slab of ice.
He let out a short, bitter laugh. Hollow. Joyless. Empty.
“I’m such an idiot,” he whispered.
Over and over.
“I’m such a fool. I really thought…”
He thought he was safe. He thought, for once in his life, that something was certain. That when Michelle said she loved him, it was real. That when Edward looked at him like a son, it was sincere.
But now?
Now, he felt sick. Invisible.
He wanted to be angry—but even his anger had no fire. The exhaustion from questioning everything had drained him dry.
Were there signs? Did everyone know but me?
And the one thing he hated most to admit…
Laura was right.
Laura—the one Michelle brushed off. The one everyone laughed at.
But she was telling the truth.
He wanted to scream. He wanted to cry.
But nothing came.
Just silence.
Just the bitter taste of humiliation.
And in that moment, sitting on his bed, freezing even with a jacket on, he made himself a promise.
There’s no going back.
Something had shattered.
And no one even knew he saw it happen.